Woolen socks? Check. Flannel PJs? Check. Two blankets? Check. My body feels as though someone jammed ten popsicles on the ends of my feet, and then ran them up and down all my bones. But, for now, I am wrapped up, tight. Iím starting to get comfortable. AhhhÖ

As I drift off to sleep, I envision toasters and hot chocolate; deserts, beaches and a roaring fire; anything to keep my chilled body warm.

Three hours later, I wake up in a sweat. Now, it feels like thereís a furnace inside me and itís heated my blood and replaced it with molten lava. I am sweating like Iím in a sauna. So, I throw off both blankets, shuck the socks and fan my PJ top frantically upward, to cool myself off. Groaning, I peek at the clock, and groan again when I see its digital dial taunting me with the time. I stumble to the bathroom for a cool wet washcloth, and run it over my burning forehead.

Back in the bedroom, I trade my flannels for a tank top and shorts. Cooler, I return to bed. I now envision ice floes, ski slopes and living inside a meat locker. I briefly check the floor, next to the bed, for the location of the now-discarded pajamas, socks and blankets.

I am going to need them again in a few hours.

Itís another night in the not-so-jolly Land of Menopause.

I can remember thinking cramps were a womanís worst enemy, and it hasnít been so long that I can eliminate them from that title completely, but these hormonal surges arenít anyoneís friend. My comfort zone is so variable now, as regards temperature, I not only never know how many layers to wear, I never know when Iíll suddenly break into a sweat and be so uncomfortable that itís hard to stay in the room.

A full nightís sleep is just a distant memory.

God knows why He made women the way He did, and I wonít begin to question Him. Just as He made our bodies behave in mysterious ways, as regards to pregnancy, and how it occurs and progresses (pickles and ice cream, anyone?), He must have a reason for this trip up and down the virtual thermometer. Maybe, as we are approaching the latter half of our lives, He wants us to be sure we have a daily reminder of what hot and cold feel like; lest we are tempted to think we might actually be able to survive an eternity in the Hot Place.

As for me, Iím trying to be grateful to be in the part of life that I now am Ė hormones and all. I am as God has made me, and Iíll do my best to learn the lessons of this phase of life.

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Men can be afflicted like that too - my ex-father in law refuses to use the heat and just about killed me this winter - San Diego's worst ever. 40 degrees in his house - you could see your breath and he said I needed iron!(Course he had pneumonia for three months...) This was fun to read! (Sorry not fun for you!)